


That Pathetic Little Neckerchief

by RogerTaylorCanRawMe



Series: Queen One-Shots [20]
Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Daddy Kink, F/M, Face-Sitting, Gags, Restraints, Rough Sex, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 16:56:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17943578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RogerTaylorCanRawMe/pseuds/RogerTaylorCanRawMe
Summary: You and Roger are reunited after months apart, and his stage outfit has you feeling some kind of way.





	That Pathetic Little Neckerchief

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, this is just me thirsting over Roger's lil tummy in those photos. This has been a bitch to write, but feedback is always welcome. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy it!

By the end of the show, Roger had you gnawing away at your knuckles. From the side of the stage, your eyes were glued to him and only him. Freddie could have worn what he liked, sang whatever. The crowd lavished enough attention on the frontman. But you wanted the drummer, who had thrown off his shirt midway through the set, allowing beads of sweat to track their way over his half-naked form, stopping at the waistband of a pair of skintight pink trousers. His hair was matted, his skin flushed, and the small, white scarf around his neck was saturated. You were painfully aware of the way your eyes bulged as he wandered off stage, towards you, wearing a smirk so devilish that it felt like he had seen every single lewd thought that swam in your head.

He didn’t pull you into a hug or allow you to congratulate him. Instead, he took your arm, going with the flow of people flooding the corridor at the back of the stage. “We’ll get our own car back to the hotel, Kitten,” he whispered, leaning in so you could hear him above the rabble. The pair of you walked together in silence after that, towards the back of the building. Crystal, Roger’s assistant was already waiting at the door with his bags and a robe, which he draped over Roger’s shoulders like he was a title-winning boxer, triumphantly exiting the ring.

Roger readjusted the robe, dragging it over his head as you emerged from the venue. He was greeted by camera flashes from a gaggle of teenage girls, eager to catch a glimpse of him after the show. However, he had far more pressing items on his agenda, dragging you towards the Bentley that waited only ten paces ahead.

The door slammed closed, and you were finally alone together, on the cold leather backseat. A relief, you thought, only now noticing how your body seemed to have been on fire all evening. 

As the car sped off, Roger grasped at the edges of the robe, adjusting it around his shoulders, and gave a deep sigh.

“You were marvellous tonight, Daddy. I've missed you so, so much,” you said, bringing his hand up to your lips and pressing a series of kisses across his knuckles.

All he could do was smile at you sweetly and throw his head back, puffing out his cheeks. His voice was ragged when he eventually spoke with a halfhearted laugh. “I missed you too, Kitten...I'm absolutely shattered as well.”

The disappointment cut through the tension in your stomach, making your body sink down in much the same way as Roger’s. You blinked and darted your gaze over to him from the corner of your eye. “So you don’t want to…”

The corners of Roger’s mouth turned up into a smirk as his eyes narrowed, only serving to accentuate how tired he really was after months of touring. “You’ve come all this way,” he began, knitting his fingers together with your own. “It’d be awfully cruel of me to work you into such a state, only to leave you high and dry, wouldn’t it?” he said half jokingly.

* * *

 

You and Roger burst into the room, arm in arm, and fell together in a heap on the bed. It had been months since you last saw each other and you were overcome with joy, even just to be in his company again. The pair of you lay still, looking up at the ceiling with broad smiles plastered across your faces.

He had changed so much in the time you were apart. Everything from his hair and the way he dressed, down to his demeanour and his body. All of which had you aching to get reacquainted with him.

You turned on to your side, looking him up and down, wondering what patch of skin you would lay claim to first. Would it be his neck, just over the folds of the damp neckerchief he still wore? Or his sternum, peppered with light, sparse hairs that screamed out for you to curl them around your fingertips? Or the soft, tanned skin that sat atop the waistband of his trousers?

You were sure he noticed you staring as he hauled himself up on his elbows with a grunt. “I’m gonna go clean myself up, and then we can get started,” Roger mumbled.

You were quick to tug at his arm, pulling him back down. “I want you now,” you demanded.

“I’m disgusting,” he smiled, “you can join me in the shower if you like?”

Rolling on top of him, you felt a surge of power coursing through your body with the sharpness of thousands of tiny little lightning bolts. 

He seemed wholly resigned to what you wanted from him as your hands dragged down his neck, over his chest, eventually coming to rest on his stomach. Your fingertips pressed into the soft flesh, turning it white under your touch.

“I’m gross!” Roger protested. "And exhausted."

Nevertheless, the feeling of your nails drawing over his skin had him writhing underneath you in no time. And the fact that it still glistened with sweat was of no consequence to you. In fact, you relished the sight of him. And the feeling of him, quivering under every feathery touch. 

Roger squealed when your efforts intensified. His arms crossed his body to protect his stomach from your onslaught.  His smile was so broad and heartfelt that it made the wrinkles around his eyes much more apparent than ever. He was the picture of pure joy. “If you’re going to tease me,” he chuckled, losing his breath midway through his point.

It caught your attention and ceased your efforts. “If I’m going to tease you… what?” you smirked, running your hand along the waistband of his trousers.

“Do it fucking properly, Kitten,” he spat.

A wicked laugh built inside your chest as you looked up at Roger with a quirked eyebrow. He just lay there, spent and submissive, waiting for your next move in the great game you were playing. 

You weren’t even sure what your next move was, chewing your lower lip. Being in charge was Roger's territory. He wore it well. But you? You had to buy yourself more time. Leaning over him, you planted your hands on either side of his head and kissed him squarely on the lips.

He was surprisingly needy, snaking his fingers through your hair to keep you right where he wanted you to be. Deepening the kiss, he sighed as his tongue danced with yours for a brief moment.

Suddenly it all clicked into place, and you were having none of this. You weren’t there to make out with him. 

After the night you had had, watching Roger on stage, you felt like you deserved something more. Especially since you were certain he knew what his outfit did to you. You withdrew, ghosting your tongue over his lower lip.

A sadistic idea flooded your mind as Roger’s hands began to roam. In one fluid motion, you grabbed both of his wrists, pinning them down above his head as you glared down at him. He looked delighted with himself, having broken you into new territory. “I thought you wanted me to do all the work, Daddy? After all, you're so exhausted,” you taunted. Even though you were raring to devour him, the words still caught in your chest, making it heave in anticipation for the next part of your plan.

Roger’s response was laced with intrigue. Less a confirmation than another question. “I do?”

“Stay put,” you ordered, shuffling off the bed and wandering over to Roger’s bag.

He propped himself up on to his elbows and eyed you intently, craning his neck to see what you were doing. You could feel those baby blues fixating on you, and you weren’t even naked yet. “Make yourself useful, Daddy,” you began, rifling through Roger’s luggage. “Take off the rest of your clothes. While you still can. Keep the scarf on though. It’s rather adorable.”

Roger’s mouth dropped open at the ease in which you had assumed control. But he wasn’t going to be told twice. He tugged off his trousers and shimmied out of his briefs. And waited.

The silk repeatedly slipped through your grasp. You sought it out through layers of Roger’s clothes, before triumphantly plucking it from the duffel bag. An iridescent, soft, black tie dangled between your fingers as you turned to Roger.

He was sitting upright, covering his body with his arms. The only garment still on his body was that pathetic little neckerchief. The feeling of being so exposed hit him like a shockwave; he knew exactly what the tie was for, but he couldn't help posing that idiotic question, simpering away. “What are you gonna do with that, Kitten?” He clasped his hands together in his lap, trying to hide his growing excitement. The realisation was so evident on his face that his eyes bulged when you finally approached. 

You crawled from the foot of the bed, over the top of him, pushing him on to his back. “I’m going to do all the work,” you explained, gently taking his wrists. He put up no resistance as you passed the material around them, binding them together. “You’re just going to lie back, relax…” You trailed off for a moment to tie his wrists to slats in the bed frame. “And enjoy.”

Roger gave his binds an experimental tug, and when he realised he wasn’t going anywhere, his mouth opened to speak. But closed promptly when you cut him off.

“Or rather, I get to enjoy you, Daddy,” you smirked. 

You were entirely determined to do so, diving down to pepper kisses all over him. You couldn’t care less whether his skin was still damp with sweat, or whether his hair was mussed and matted; all that mattered was that he was laid out underneath you, ready for the taking. And despite his earlier protests, Roger seemed to be enjoying the sensation of you, nipping away at his skin as his body trembled, and his soft, quiet moans, became increasingly guttural. “You like that, Daddy?” You asked, looking up at him as your mouth edged lower on him. Your fingertips returned to that tender spot that elicited the most significant response, prodding him for an answer. Drawing circles on his flesh again, he gave a sharp squeal. His body seemed to fold in on itself, and his smile made you melt. You got back on your knees to straddle him. His cock was hard between your legs, reminding you that you were still fully clothed on top of him. A small barrier in the grand scheme of things, especially as you rolled your hips against him, the friction pulling a frustrated groan from him. You continued teasing, quickly shedding your blouse and your bra. 

Roger’s eyes fluttered closed. Watching you only made him struggle against his restraints while you alternated between squeezing at your breasts and gently curling the smattering of hair on his stomach around your fingers. All he could do to offer himself some semblance of relief was to meet the motion of your hips, thrusting upwards. 

His desperation only deepened the sadistic streak inside you, making your eyes darken. “I thought I was doing all the work here, Daddy?” You sang, tracing your fingers down his sides, causing him to quiver. 

He was in a sorry state. Precum was smeared across his stomach from your efforts, and his cheeks were flushed pink. His eyes were still closed, tilting his head to the side in an attempt to bury his face into the pillow. “Mmmm… want you, Kitten,” he mumbled. 

You swore you even heard him whine as you got up off the bed to remove your jeans. You couldn't resist mocking the way he cried out for you the further away you moved. “Now, now, Daddy. It’d be awfully cruel of me to work you into such a state, only to leave you high and dry, wouldn’t it?” 

Hearing the shuffling of your clothes, Roger’s eyes were back on you. Glued to your form. The soft rise and fall of his chest had quickened as he marvelled at every detail. 

Having that ability - that power - over Roger at that moment was intoxicating. Standing at the side of the bed, you skirted your hand from Roger's neck, all the way down to his cock. He whimpered under your touch, as fleeting as it was. “Do you really want me, Daddy?” you asked, caressing his balls. 

“Yes, Kitten,” he sighed, spreading his legs for you.

Your hand trailed up his cock, spreading the precum from his tip over his length. Your grasp was painstaking and purposeful, drawing long, but gentle strokes around him. Enough to make his hips roll, but not enough to get him off just yet; that wasn’t the aim. You wanted to ratchet up his desperation. But Roger wasn’t in on the plan. “Go a little bit harder,” Roger hissed, every word shaking.

“I thought I was supposed to be the one doing all the work?” you teased, leaning down to him. Roger instantly made a move to kiss you, but you were just out of his limited range. Your hand sped up for a mere moment, enough to pull an excited and hopeful moan from his lips. You slowed down, just as quickly, placing a chaste kiss to his lips. “It doesn’t work if you’re telling me what to do, Daddy. Are you going to be good for me?”

“Yes,” Roger sighed, jerking his hips into your grasp.

“Good,” you said, crawling on top of him again and leaning close to his face. “Now, you’re going to do a little something for me. Are you listening?”

“Yes, Kitten.”

“Do you have any idea what you were doing to me up there tonight, Daddy? In that fucking outfit?” You began, tugging at the scarf around Roger’s neck.

Roger bit his lip as he gazed up at you, taking in every word. 

“Now I know you’re tired, but I’m going to need you to put that beautiful mouth of your’s to good use. And if you’re really good, I might reward you” you explained, drawing your thumb over his lower lip. “Do you think you can do that for me?”

“Yes, Kitten.”

The smile on your face was wicked as you ran your fingers through Roger’s hair. “Good.” Turning around, you shook your bottom in front of Roger’s face. Tantalisingly out of reach, you could feel the bed dip as he tried to move closer to no avail and hear his quiet curses. “Like what you see, Daddy?”

“I do, Kitten.”

“Do you want a taste?”

Before Roger could offer you an answer, you brought yourself down on his face, grinding against him. A satisfied moan left his lips, travelling through your body. Pure unadulterated bliss rushed through you. His tongue gathered your wetness in harsh, eager strokes, parting your folds. He lapped away at you as if he had been starved. Sitting upright on Roger’s face, you continued to press yourself into him until he pushed his tongue inside you. 

His tongue was so adept at fucking you that it blindsided you from your plan. It wasn’t until you looked down at Roger’s hips writhing away. You leaned over his body, reaching down to tickle his tummy with one hand. It earned you a series of soft giggles from Roger.

The sounds he made reverberated through you, forcing a sharp moan from you.

Another self-satisfied chuckle came from Roger as he refocused his efforts, exploring more of you. Large, lazy circles traced around your clit. Payback for the way you were hellbent on teasing him earlier. But what Roger didn’t know was that you were prepared to play dirty. 

Your fingers danced over his stomach with renewed fervour, causing him to squirm uncontrollably. He couldn’t move from his place between your legs, though. “Keep fucking going, Daddy,” you scolded as Roger’s laughter rumbled through you, his tongue desperately trying to decide on just one spot. “I want you to make me come, or I won’t give you your reward.”

Roger never needed to be told twice. The tip of his tongue frantically began to work away at your clit, in spite of you still tickling any patch of skin you could lay your hands on. His laughs, coupling with his own, more conscious efforts, made the pressure inside you skyrocket. It drew every muscle inside you tighter. Stringing you out. Pulling away at any control you had left until your nails clawed at Roger’s skin. Head back. Eyes closed. Heart racing. Wave after wave until you were spent and breathless, thrown forward against Roger’s stomach, trying to suck as much air into your lungs as possible.

You were plucked out of your daze by Roger, clearing his throat, trying to catch your attention. Sitting upright on top of him you peered over your shoulder to find him red-faced and somewhat disgruntled looking. “I almost forgot you were there, Rogie!”

“Charming! You know I’ve got a good mind to spank you for that.”

You turned around and untied his wrists, your stomach churned in anticipation of what was to come. “I thought you liked it when I’m in charge, Daddy?”

The moment Roger’s hands were free, he swiftly had you pinned underneath him, marking up your neck. “I like you better on your back, Kitten.”

Despite still coming down from your orgasm, the feeling of his cock pressing against your entrance was enticing enough to have you angling your hips in anticipation. You knew Roger wouldn’t hold back. Not when you promised him so much, only to make him work for it. He was going to make quick work of you, and you were sure of it. Even though he had been tired before, something about you taking control had given him his second wind, and it made you want him even more. You couldn’t help the small, feeble whine that escaped you as his hand found its way to your neck. “Please,” you begged.

It squeezed tighter as his hips snapped into you, causing him to bottom out in one swift motion. The moan he forced from you was utterly unholy, pushing past the pressure on your neck. 

“Who’s in charge, Kitten?” Roger taunted, giving another sharp thrust. 

“You, Daddy.”

Roger smirked. There was no starting slow. No romantic lovemaking. The pace Roger set was unrelenting as he loomed over you, pressing himself firmly against you. There was nowhere for you to move to. All you could do was cling to him, clawing into his back for dear life. His fingers grasped at handfuls of your hair, tugging it as he fucked you so mercilessly that the bed repeatedly slammed against the wall. You pitied whoever was in the room next to you. Your moans alone were enough to tell the world exactly what Roger was doing to you, as he expertly struck exactly the right spot inside you, every time he pounded into you. “Is this what you fucking wanted, Kitten?” he growled. His lips were fixed to your ear, and everything he said seemed to make you tense even more around him. “Was that what that little show of your’s was about? You just wanted to rile me up so I’d fuck you like the little slut that you are. Am I right, Kitten?”

Even though you were hanging off of every word, you were too far gone. Your head was swimming. Too dazed to answer back until Roger grabbed your face, his fingers squeezing into your cheeks. “Fucking answer me,” he demanded. 

“You just looked so good tonight, Daddy,” you whimpered, punctuating that admission with another moan. “It’s been so long, and I needed you.”

“God, you’re so fucking needy,” Roger hissed, tugging off his neckerchief and balling it up. “Aren’t you a needy girl?” he cooed.

Before you had the opportunity to respond, he shoved the material into your mouth, muffling whatever it was you were trying to choke out. 

Then he leaned back on his haunched, picking up your hips as he continued his onslaught, his thrusts becoming increasingly jagged. That spelt the beginning of another hit of pleasure for you. Shooting straight through your core. You were thankful for the sweaty rag in your mouth, clutching at the sheets and crying out in pure ecstasy. 

The feeling of your cunt clenching around his cock sent Roger over the edge not long after. He was even more drenched in sweat than when he came off stage, his ragged breaths punctuating every haphazard thrust, right through to the end. 

“Please tell me you don’t have any more surprises planned for me,” Roger chuckled, collapsing face down next to you. 

It never ceased to amaze you how quickly Roger could go from viciously fucking you to being in the most jovial mood, even when he was utterly spent. Spitting out Roger’s neckerchief in a moment of disgusted realisation, you giggled at the thought. “I think it’s time you showered.”

Roger groaned, peering at you from over his arm. “Then can we indulge in an x-rated night of spirited cuddling, my love? Because I’m not gonna lie… I’ve actually kind of missed you.”

You rolled your eyes, diving on top of Roger to nestle your face against his neck. “Don’t get all soppy on me now, Rogie.


End file.
